Dunes
by Green Bird
Summary: Shounen-ai. VW A long desert bike ride promotes suggestive thinking. Vash is tired, Wolfwood is cold... the both of them want to get to their destination... or do they? One-shot.


Title: Dunes  
  
Show: Trigun  
  
Pairing: Vash/Wolfwood  
  
Author: GreenBird  
  
Disclaimer: I don't claim anything at all.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Note: A long bike ride invokes a little more suggestive thinking then  
wanted. I love rocks. You'll love rocks too very soon. Little angst.  
Shounen-ai. Fluff. . . er not really.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
.  
  
-Wolfwood.-  
  
.  
  
Three hours since we've left the little spit of a town Gregory. Three hours of riding Angela out into nowhere, well, to Cellis. But whatever, we can't see it so it's to nowhere until then. Three hours of bouncing across irritating terrain. Three hours of choking on dust. Three hours and I'm sure I've got blisters on my ass. Three hours with Vash stationed directly behind me.  
  
Not that that's exactly bad. After his first minor flippancy over my driving skills he's remained pretty quiet the entire ride. He's got his hands on my shoulders and their not gripping as tight as they were, making wrinkles in my jacket. No, now he seems pretty relaxed, leaning back every now and again to stretch those lanky arms as far as they can go, letting a lazy yawn leak out. The suns went down an hour ago and I don't know about him but I'm tired as hell. He must be reading my mind though because I suddenly feel the weight of his head hit my shoulder blade.  
  
I can't help but smile when I hear him murmur pathetically; "I really can't hold it up any longer."  
  
.  
  
-Vash.-  
  
.  
  
"We can make it to Cellis on Angela, she's tuned up, she'll be fine." Yeah. Next time when you suggest that Wolfwood, remind me how close I have to be to you. How I've got to sit right behind you, my thighs touching your legs, and how I've got to hold onto you because knowing my luck, I'm going to go right off this beastly thing. Then maybe I'll reconsider. Not that I don't want to be near you. I love being near you. Not that I don't want to touch you. I want nothing much more. But, just remind me how I have to control myself and not do what I really want to.  
  
Not that I would do anything bad. Just a little touch. Just a little hug, a little stroke. Milk some small inkling of affection. . . I mean, I can't think of you like that can I? Even though you're right here, irony pending, in between my legs. And there's something rumbling and vibrating under us, and I've had a bit to drink in the last saloon. . . Gutterhead. If the girls were with us that's what they'd say. Pervert. And then Meryl would slap me for even thinking about it. What loving friends.  
  
But you wouldn't hit me would you? Would you laugh at me? Think I was joking? Would you ignore it and brush it off with a raise of an eyebrow? You won't dare. return anything, because you just wouldn't. Cause you can't. You're not allowed.  
  
We hit a bump and I lean forward impulsively. Maybe you would hit me. Cause it's wrong, or so they tell you when you're young. Cause it doesn't work that way. Cause you're not 'sappost to feel that. Who made up those rules anyway? Why the hell can't you just be happy? What's wrong with that?  
  
Enough thinking. I'm so tired and I don't care what those stupid rules were. I'm so tired of ignoring it. You're not the same. I never. . . never was really like this before. We had, you know. . . -him- and I, but, we were alone together and that's just how it fell.  
  
But you! You just seemed to have a knack for this didn't you? I liked you because you were so brave, and witty, and funny, and attractive. . . And you liked me. You were always just around and there for me. I'm so tired of putting on this false act for you. I place my head on your broad shoulder because that's the only place for it. This whole thing is falling apart. Every hinge is coming unglued. Maybe it's the liquor, but I think I'm breaking.  
  
"I really can't hold it up any longer."  
  
.  
  
-Wolfwood.-  
  
.  
  
It was getting cold a lot faster then I wanted it too. Cellis was another forty good minutes away and the sand already had given up its' heat. But hopefully Vash would keep me warm enough, although my fingers were frozen to Angela's handles.  
  
The terrain ahead was not a pretty sight either; thirty iles before the town rocks begin to poke their ugly heads out and are a real problem when there's no beaten path. I'd been on one; least I thought I had, but not any longer. As if the rocks were not enough, between outcroppings were very impressive dunes, formed by the irregular wind patterns. This would be a fun venture. I never should have convinced Vash to duck out of Gregory this late at night. Vash, who was now in a semi-dream on my shoulder.  
  
Unfortunately, the next bump woke him. More like jolted him. The gunman squealed and then quite unexpectedly I felt his arms wrap like a vice around my waist.  
  
.  
  
-Vash.-  
  
.  
  
Sometimes, I love rocks. Especially when they make you do something you were dying to do in the first place. I was in a state of near-sleep and all the sudden. . . BUMP. Big rock comes and torks me just enough so that I have to grab him for comfort.  
  
He doesn't even flinch at all. No, he just keeps on as if it was nothing. It really is nothing, what am I thinking about? I move my hands just so that they're pressing his stomach, the fingers of my right hand just lucky enough to peek under that black priest's jacket and touch the shirt under. Not skin, but it's not bad.  
  
Do I dare? Yeah I do. It won't hurt. I wiggle my fingers, tickling his abdomen. The action is rewarded with a wonderful tightening of his muscles and a small chuckle.  
  
"Watch out Vash, here's some more."  
  
More friends you mean. Under us the bike bucked as she crawled over them. I felt Nicholas lift out of his seat a small amount. Bolder because I have an excuse now, I make a sound of alarm and cling him tighter, pulling myself close as we're jostled about on the beast's back.  
  
A particularly large and helpful friend puts us both off of the saddle and I bumped Wolfwood with my hips, actually sliding him forward a little.  
  
"You're taking up most the seat Broomhead. I'll be sitting on your lap in a minute."  
  
The entire point, but I shift back. Suddenly we hit a pile of them and it feels like we're driving over a washboard. My teeth chatter in my head and I squeeze now with both arms and legs, my feet hooking the pegs.  
  
"Ah- ah- ah- ah -almost -d -d -done!"  
  
Angela clears the rocks and then sloped upward, making me lean back. The tails of my coat have worked their way out from under me and they're now flying about like scarlet banners as we work our way to the top of the first dune.  
  
.  
  
-Wolfwood.-  
  
.  
  
Vash's hands are very hot against my stomach, at least his right one is. I won't even mention how hot his chest and thighs are to my back, but they're keeping me warm and awake. I don't exactly want to get my hopes up to why he's in such a state, but oh well. Everything is just coincidence. Even that thrust when we hit that boulder was an accident wasn't it? It had to be.  
  
I can hear those coat tails of his smack the wind loudly. Hopefully that's the only thing that got shaken loose from the trip, I glance back worriedly to check if the Punisher is still with us. She's there, bound tightly behind Vash, his brown bag hooked around it as well. There's a lot of extra weight on sweet Angela and I pray that she'll live until I'm able to give her a proper tune-up.  
  
Vash's still as close as he was over the rocks, that shining face of his was now wrinkled in irritation and he looked sick. "Whoa, you're not going to yak are you? You want me to pull over?"  
  
"Pull over to where Nick? There's no road."  
  
Smartass. His left hand comes up and covers his face. "No, I'll be fine."  
  
"Okay." I look back to the downside of the dune and to the rocks ahead of us. "Here comes some shakers, don't get sick on me."  
  
He sighs and squeezes me a bit too hard, gluing us together. Ep, can't breathe Spikey. Both arms return to where they've made themselves quite at home around my waist and his head rests in between my shoulder blades. I feel my stomach flutter as we fly a bit too fast down the slope. From behind me Vash voices his disapproval with a loud groan. Oh please don't make that sound when we're this close, and you just happen to be very very much up against me.  
  
Ow. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow. Damn these rocks! This seat isn't the softest thing to land on and I'm slamming down on it hard enough for me to want to avoid chairs for a bit. Like dead weight Broomhead's bouncing around with me. Sick of the abuse I lift myself off the seat with the pegs, most likely what I should have done in the first place. Vash scrambles but does the same, and we're both leaning forward, still clumped together like magnets. Way to make it better Wolfwood, now this is a bad position, and we're still bouncing around making it even worse. Oh thank you for the dark because my face is burning up in embarrassment.  
  
"N-N- Nick!" Don't talk idiot! Not like this! And definitely not in that pleading little tone with me. You're rubbing me all the wrong ways.  
  
"I can't just -ah- get these r-r-ocks to stop Vash! There's only a -ow- few left. -ah!"  
  
He mutters something and his hands move to my hips. His weight off my back, but the pressure against me in the wrong spots is still conveniently there. A few rather large rocks later, ones that make particularly bad suggestive motions, we hit clean sand again, and I return to my seat eagerly. If there are any more of these damn outcrops I'm going to just suffer the abuse to my nether regions, because right now something needs to deal with it.  
  
.  
  
-Vash.-  
  
.  
  
"I can't just -ah- get these r-r-ocks to stop Vash! There's only a -ow- few left. -ah!"  
  
"But I don't want the rocks to stop, Nicki." He can't hear that. Hopefully. This is the. . . oddest position to date I've gotten him in. I feel a little bit like an over-excited dog, bent over him like this. A little jolt of laughter gets me. Wolfwood's my bitch.  
  
The thought gets a little too much approval and I move my hands to hold him in place. He's not going to say anything about it. He's just going to take this until we're in the clear. Oh you're going to burn in hell Vash. Molesting a priest!  
  
The rock jolts us a few more times and the very second we clear them Wolfwood sits directly back down, obviously not being very comfortable over the station I had taken up. The bike growls and begins to climb again. How many dunes are there left? We can't be that far from Cellis. Twenty more iles. . .  
  
Here's the top of the dune, and Angela slows and coughs. Not a good sound.  
  
"Is she gunna die?"  
  
"No baby!"  
  
For a second I thought he called me baby, and then I realize he's directing it to the bike and I admit I'm just a little crestfallen. The machine gives a few lurches and then decides to move faster. I hear Nicholas sigh with relief. Something's eating at me. I feel a little. . .  
  
"Nick I'm sorry about the rocks!" I shout just behind his ear. He's got the softest midnight hair. Accidentally, I brush it when I speak. He can't hide his twitch of surprise.  
  
The wind's picking up, I can hardly hear as he mutters; "No you're not. You liked that."  
  
I can't tell if he's kidding or not. Please be kidding. I feel him jolt in laughter.  
  
"Heck Vash, even I liked that."  
  
"Oh you're cruel." I whisper, and I hope he didn't hear it, but I think he did. Oh great, we've come to the slope of the dune and below us is the darkened abyss that is an outcropping. Sand sprays up as we plunge earthward and then level out. There are hardly any rocks, but this outcropping is a large stretch. . . I can't even pick out the dune that would lift us away from it.  
  
.  
  
-Wolfwood.-  
  
.  
  
These horrible little jolts are getting less and less and I'm praying there will be no more. Well, at least I'm telling myself I'm praying there'll be no more. You must get a kick out of this and even I'm finding it a bit funny. I should get you to town fast. . . it's been three hours since you last stalked some poor woman and you're beginning to take it out on me. You're joking naturally. I hope you're joking. You've got to be joking right?  
  
But you're leaning farther foreward to whisper something to me. . .  
  
"Thanks for the ride Nick."  
  
That's a simple sentiment. . . nothing to worry myself about. But why are you lingering? Why are you breathing on my neck, almost like you're indecisive weather you want to say more or not. . .  
  
.  
  
-Vash.-  
  
.  
  
I thanked you for the ride, but I really do want to thank you. . . and I wish that you'd of given me more to thank you for.  
  
I feel a bit predatory, hanging like this behind you. . . but your smell is distinctive and I'm groggy and feel drugged. Damn pheromones. You're tempting me with them. even if you don't want to. I know that this little outcropping is the last one before the final climb up and over to Cellis.  
  
/Let me thank you a little more. . ./ My lips are an inch away from your neck and I want. . . /I need to thank you a little more./  
  
Then, almost as if on my secret command, we hit the perfect boulder, and I'm thrown just enough. Just enough to press my mouth against the side of your neck. My lips must be warm because your neck seems so cold. And I don't move, I leave my mouth on you. . . let you know that that one wasn't an accident.  
  
I move them just a little, part them just enough to breathe hot air on you. Enough to taste you, even if it's a millisecond; I'll remember it. My hand that found its way back to your stomach pushes back and slides lower. I don't go too far, I only want you to know what I'm thinking of. What I want.  
  
Your breath's caught and you only whisper it, but it's my demise; "Vash. . . I. . . stop."  
  
It hurt, but I knew it was going too. And I lean back, taking the forbidden fruit away from my lips. My hand retreats as well, and goes up to perch on your shoulder. I'm done. I can't press myself against the glass anymore when I know I can't get it.  
  
But you know now at least. . . know just what I think of you. My friend, my, more or less, trusted partner. . . even my rival. I feel something more.  
  
It's so silly to think of it. You do like Milly, she's a sweet girl, and (God help me) Meryl might have a thing for me. Why would you pick me. . . why would I pick you? You know pain. . . real pain. You know what its like to suffer. . . I can relate with you more then them. I can fight against you. I can fight with you. I can laugh with you. I can actually smile with you. I think, just maybe, I can be with you like this too.  
  
There's light up ahead, very very faint, but the city of Cellis is glowing bright enough for us to see her radiance over the crest of the dune. Angelina peaks the final hill and we see her off in the distance, nestled into a valley that shields her from the wind.  
  
It's all really downhill from here, we have to wrap around the valley twice to descend properly to Cellis. It's lights glow wonderfully in the distance. She's not very far. . . three iles. There are bars and hotels and shops down there. Warm beds and cold showers. Food and drink. Shelter and protection.  
  
I could get a drink then. And go to the bathroom. And take a shower. And sleep. I could do all of those things. I wonder if we'll joint rent a room like last time? I'll have to find some sad woman to flirt with the moment we find a bar. Got to reclaim a little sexuality that I'm used to. I'll need to convince you, even though it'll be near impossible to convince myself.  
  
But, I don't really ever want to arrive there. You do. I can tell. You don't like me this close; don't like how I'm touching you. I can always blame it on the liquor I drank. although that was three or so hours ago.  
  
No, I've got three more iles with you. Three nice long iles. And then I can let you go. Forever.  
  
.  
  
-Wolfwood.-  
  
.  
  
The city's getting close. This little game will soon be up. The second this bike stops you're going to get up and stroll off, most likely with a limp, but away from me. And you won't mention this again.  
  
Damn it.  
  
Damn it all to hell.  
  
I want to keep on riding.  
  
.  
  
~  
  
The things that you say,  
  
The truths that you fake. . .  
  
For me.  
  
The ones you suffer with,  
  
And care in my wake. . .  
  
For me.  
  
The lives you live,  
  
The lives you take. . .  
  
For me.  
  
The hell you survive,  
  
All in the sake. . .  
  
Of me.  
  
But there's a distance you won't travel,  
  
A love you won't make,  
  
Just for me.  
  
.  
  
_________________________________________________________________  
  
Poem at the bit was a little poo of a thing I scribbled down a while ago. Ah! Finally it is done! A Trigun thing. . . yay. Now on to other things. Like lime jello and evil flowers. (Too many ficlets. . . too many!)  
  
Hope you liked. Love you all. Yes, even you.  
  
~Green Bird  
  
~* FIN *~ 


End file.
